The Reason Why
by ScarletMoonX
Summary: Oh, I suppose you thought I was always like this? Heh, no. I wasn't always like this. With these twisted desires and my irreversibly screwed up mind. Hurting everyone who offends me. Quick to hit someone with a chair. Ready to tear someone apart with a pick axe. Lonely and antisocial. Nyet, there's a reason. Here's the reason why. (2P!Talia, no pairings)
1. Chapter 1 - Boy in the Blizzard

A little boy was walking in the snow. He was walking through a thick forest where leave less trees intermingled with pine trees. The trees didn't look green or really brown, just different shades of gray-blue. Although the boy was wearing a dark gray scarf and a lighter gray coat, and thick boots, he was still cold. He stopped and readjusted his little black hat and continued forward. He wiped some frost off his auburn hair to improve his visibility. He didn't know where he came from, or where he was heading, but wanted to get somewhere warmer. He was very short, around three feet tall if not shorter. The snow was tall, but he was so small his legs only sank up to his knee. Walking was hard still, though. His legs were stubby and he was knock-kneed. He continued forward, hoping to see someone to help him.

He held his hand up and rubbed his nose. The cold was making it a bit numb at the tip. Resting for a bit, he bent down and picked up some snow. It chilled his hands but he liked how the snow looked. It was barely sparkling in the light from the sun, basically non-existing behind the looming clouds ahead. He smiled and dropped the snow. He wiped his hands on his coat and rubbed them to warm them up. He put his hands to his mouth and let out a warm breath. He could see it and it succeeded at warming his hands. Just for a second, it warmed them. Onward he travelled, noticing the increasing cold. Wouldn't want to stay in this spot too long. He'll catch his death.

The gentle winds from before increased in speed and strength. The breezes transformed into gales and a snowstorm was sure to happen, maybe even a blizzard. It was even harder to walk for the poor little boy. The wind was pushing him to his left and he was beginning to become tired. His hands were numb, so were his ears and nose. He lifted his scarf to his face and attempted to heat up his nose, but it unfortunately made it a bit harder to breathe. He had stopped his hat from flying away several times. Snow started to fly into his face and he realized it was a snowstorm. He held his arms around his face to prevent his hair and snow getting into his face. He squinted his ruby red eyes, trying to see past the sheet of snow ramming into him.

The snow on the ground increased, climbing up his legs as he continued. His legs were becoming sore and numb at the same time. He's started to shiver as well, very lightly. Keeping his pace, he didn't speed up nor slow down. The wind however, naturally slowed him down as the snowstorm evolved into a blizzard. He stopped at a snow bank that managed to stick out of the white blanket covering the ground. His legs gave way and he lay on the bank and slid more onto the ground. His hat fell off and rolled a few inches out of his reach. He just wanted to rest for a little bit, because he was so tired. He wanted to rest until the blizzard blew over, he decided. He stuck his thumb into his mouth and gently closed his eyes.

General Winter and his troops have also been making their way through the increasing tempest. They were determined to hunt enough to create a surplus of food. Using up all their food and making a gamble with the hunting was too risky, so they tried to make the best out of any opportunity to hunt. The good weather had unfortunately morphed into a powerful storm. "Sir, General Winter, we'll have to head back soon or we'll freeze." One trooper implored. Another said "If we turn back now, we'll still freeze! We're in a new territory far beyond Ukraine!" Winter looked back at them and scoffed back "Now, men, calm yourselves. We're not too far into unfamiliar territory. Quit the bellyaching and let's continue." The men behind them moaned and one claimed they were maybe even 1,000 miles into unknown territory. "If an old man like me can travel this far without complaining, so can you. If it makes you children feel better, we'll bag a couple of game, then head back. Are you alright with that?" The men sighed but agreed. They waded through a few more trees before coming across a small clearing. Through the screen of snow, they could make out a small figure laying on the ground. As one soldier aimed for the figure, Winter placed his arm in front of his chest before he could throw his knife. "Hold on for a second. My eyesight might be failing, but it seems too small to be a deer or caribou. And it's not moving. Let's take a closer look before we bag it, da?"

They walked forward and approached the figure with caution. Upon closer inspection, they were shocked to see it was a little boy, crouched into the fetal position in the middle of a blizzard. "I… is he dead?" a soldier asked, concerned. Winter turned the boy over to find he was shaking from the cold, and breathing. "Nyet. He's alive. But he's freezing. We should head back and bring him with us. If he's not dead now, he will be if we don't take him with us." Winter decided. He scooped up the little boy and put his little black hat on his head. Holding him in one arm, he motioned to the other soldiers to retreat back to the camp. "We've collected enough food for a week or two."

They arrived at the camp, a few miles from the Ukrainian – Unknown Territory border. Katerina was surprised to see them back but was eager to see them. "Oh, I'm glad you're all okay!" she exclaimed. "We could see and feel the blizzard from here!" Some of the soldiers greeted her, a third went to their quarters, and the last third loaded the game they caught into the slaughterhouse to be prepared for eating. When they parted, Winter approached Katerina and knelt down. He showed the sleeping toddler to Katerina. "We found him in the middle of the storm, out in the unknown territory." He explained. "Oh! My goodness, is he okay?! Do we—" "He'll need some food and few blankets and I'm sure he'll be fine. We'll check for frostbite, though." He looked at the sleeping boy and back at Katerina. _"Hmm. They look related. Could this be a new country? It could explain why he didn't perish so easily."_

He held the kid out a bit and confided to Katerina, "This boy will be your new little brother. I want you to take care of him. I believe he is a new country, once he wakes up, we'll ask him his name and he'll live here until he's old enough to fare on his own." Just then, the new country started to move a bit more and stretched. "Oh, I think he's coming around!" Katerina sharply whispered and she hovered above him. The boy slowly opened his garnet red eyes and stared forward at the two new faces in his field of vision. One was nice and the other was a bit frightening. "Hello there," Winter greeted. "It's nice to see you're okay." He looked at them both. "… _Privet_…" the boy said to the both of them. Winter set him down, he staggered a bit but then stood still. Katerina introduced herself to the boy and told him she was his older sister, and would take care of him. "_Sestra_…" he repeated. Then she introduced him to Winter and said he (hopefully, she added) would be like a grandfather to him. "_Dedushka_…" he whispered loudly. Winter crouched down beside Katerina. "Now, tell us your name. You are a new country." The boy thought for a bit then slowly said in English, "Russiaaaa…" He dragged out the word like he was a tiny bit unsure. Winter shook his head lightly and said "The territory we found you in shall be called 'Russia'. Your family name will be 'Braginski', after your sister's name. Tell me your first name." Russia thought for a bit, twiddling his fingers. He quietly thought for a minute, as if he didn't know or forgot it already. He then recalled his name and said, "Ion. My name is… Ion Braginski." He gave a soft smile to his _sestra_ and _dedushka_. Winter smirked and said "Alright then... Ion Braginski it is."


	2. Chapter 2 - Ion's Domain

After a few months, Ion has still not entirely gotten used to living in the camp. This was normal, of course, seeing he was just a little boy. Today, Winter said he was going to show Ion something special, or rather, important. Katerina fixed his clothes and hair just for the occasion. "Do you know where we're going, Kat-Kat?" he inquired. Ever since learning her name, he's decided to call her "Kat-Kat" instead. Much easier and Katerina loved the nickname. "Mmm-hmm! But it's a secret! You'll find out when you get there." "But I want to know now~!" he complained. "Hush now. You like surprises, don't you?" she replied. He shook his head in agreement. "Then you can wait. I'm sure you'll like it." He giggled and stood still as Katerina buttons up his coat. "Now, don't forget to say 'please' and 'thank-you' and—" Ion interrupted with a long sigh and said "I knooooow~ I won't forget." Katerina grinned at his as she put his hat on. "Good." He was about to reach over and snatch his knife belt but Katerina held it away from him. "Trust me, Ion. You won't need this." He cocked his head to side. "What kind of place are we going where we don't bring a knife?" "It's a surprise, silly."

Winter held Ion's tiny hand lightly between three fingers. Ion's other hand was near his mouth, he was sucking his thumb. _"We've been walking for a long time,"_ he thought. _"I hope this surprise is amazing. My legs and knees are getting sore."_ He looked up at Winter. He had a bored, apathetic look on his face. Like always, except when he was angry. Then his eyebrows pointed downward toward his nose. And that space between his eyebrows would crinkle, too. "Are we almost there, _oroshka_?" the country asked. "Almost." Winter replied gruffly. General Winter stopped and let go of Ion's hand. He pulled out a cigar and matches. He struck the match and lit the cigar and put it in his mouth. He puffed out a big cloud of smoke and cleared his throat. For next twenty minutes, he puffed on his cigar, and occasionally taking a deep breath. Ion sat down. He always took a long time to finish his cigars. He was two-thirds done, but he dropped the cigar and crushed it into the snow with his huge boot. "Alright then, close your eyes and walk forward with me." he said. Ion got up, brushed the snow off his backside, raised his hand and Winter grasped it. He lifted his right hand and shielded his eyes.

Step, step, step. A near trip here and there. "Are we almost there _now_?" he asked, tired and growing impatient. "Shut your mouth and you can look." he scoffed back. Ion stopped talking and slowly removed his hand from his face. Before him stood a spacious village of small homes. Some people were walking between them, holding food and other things. He noticed there were women there. Ion's rarely seen a woman other than his big sister. All of the soldiers at camp were men. There were some lunch ladies that worked at the mess hall, though. He opened his eyes wider and pure awe. His little mouth formed a small "o" as well. A chilling but  
gentle wind blew in, gently rustling his hair. It also swayed the little braided string from his hat. Since they were upon a hill, they walked carefully down before the village. Some people have already congregated over to the hill upon seeing the visitors. "Oh, goodness! Is that him?" "It must be! He's definitely got the look!" "Look at him and tell me he isn't it!" they questioned. "Settle down, settle down. Da, this is your new country. The country named 'Russia'." He glanced down at a stunned Ion. "Russia, these are your people, the Russians." He raised his arm and motioned it to the crowd in front of him. "When you're older… it will be your duty to protect them." Then he turned to the crowd and announced loudly, "People of Russia! This child is indeed your country. He's new to a lot of things so don't suffocate him. Don't frighten him either. This just a visit though." He strolled over to a cabin, leaned against it, and lit a cigar. Immediately, the eldest of the group flocked to Ion. "Oh, how precious!" "Goodness, look at his little face! I could just pinch his cheeks!" All of the sudden crowding started to make Ion nervous and he started to redden and whimper. "Give the boy some room to breathe! You heard Winter!" a man called out. The crowd gave him space and he calmed down.

One pleasant old lady named Viktoriya offered to bring Ion around the village and show him their culture. "I've just finished making _pirozhki_, would like to try some?" she offered. "_Pirozhki_~? I do want some! … please." He said, remembering his manners. "Careful, its piping hot." she cautioned as she handed him the bread pocket. He held it with caution and viewed it over. "Looks like normal bread to me…" he said aloud. "Take a bite, _malysh_." she said with a chuckle. He took a bite and his eyes lit up immediately. "Mmm! I love it~! Meat inside of bread is genius!" Viktoriya giggled and said "There's some rice in there too." Ion finished the snack and quickly asked for more. "Now, now, I'm assuming you haven't had supper yet. Don't want to spoil it, don't you?" "Oh… okay, madam."

She held his hand and guided him over to a neighbor of hers. A younger man in his forties was forging metalwork. "Don't get too close, _malysh_. That metal is very hot." "But what is he making?" the little boy replied. "Knives," said the man. "We need a few more for hunting." "Ah. I have a knife for hunting back at camp but big sister said I wouldn't need it." Ion remembered. "Big sister? Your sister is Ukraine, right?" asked the man. "Da~" said Ion. "Her name is Katerina but I call her Kat-Kat." Viktoriya bent down and rubbed his cheek. "Oh my, you are too delightful!" she said sweetly. "I could eat you up!" Ion giggled and looked back up at her. "In speaking of eating, will we get to eat some more _pirozhki_~?" The woman sighed and shook her head. "Da, you will get more _pirohzki_, little one. But let's see more of the village, okay?" "Alright then."

Then, once nearing a certain house, a sound he's never heard before came to him. It sounded like singing, but without words. "What is that noise? It's beautiful~" he wondered out loud. "That? That, my child, is _music_. Nikolay but be playing it again." "It?" Ion asked. "What is '_it_'?" The lady brought a finger to her lips. "You'll see." she whispered. They walked soundlessly around the perimeter of the building until they reached the entrance. There, upon the doorstep, sat a boy of possibly 16, strumming on a wooden stick-like object Ion's never seen the likes of before. He continued making music until the song was finished. Then, he opened his eyes to his great-aunt and little boy clapping at his performance. "That was beautiful!" the boy cried. "Again! Again!" he cheered. "Who's this little youth?" Nikolay asked, chuckling. "This, great-nephew, is Ion Braginski. He's our country, named 'Russia'." Nikolay slid out of his comfortable-looking position and crouched to look at Ion. "This is our country? Preeeetty small." Ion looked down shyly. It was true, he was a small thing. "But… I like you, kid." The teen said with a toothy grin. Ion immediately brightened up, then stared at the strange music-making object Nikolay held. "That thing—what is it?" Nikolay held up the instrument. "This? This is my _balalaika_." Ion was totally lost. "Balalalala what~?" he said, raising an eyebrow. Nikolay laughed loudly but quickly quieted down. "No, silly, ba-la-lai-ka." he said, stressing the syllables."Ba-la-lai-ka." The little boy repeated. "Can you play some more?" The teenager looked at the instrument, then back at Ion. "I could… or better yet, maybe _you_ could." he said while grinning mischievously. "Wha—me? I couldn't play a big balalaika like that!" "Maybe not a big one like this… but let me see if I can't find a smaller one for you." responded Nikolay. He went into his home after ruffling Ion's hair a bit. Ion flailed his arms with pure elation, that he'll soon make music like Nikolay.

A minute passed when Nikolay came out of the dwelling holding a much smaller balalaika. "This is for you, Ion." he said, handing him the guitar-like instrument. "Yay! Yay!" the boy cheered, holding it. His very own balalaika! He sat down on the steps to Nikolay's dwelling and the teen kneeled behind him. Viktoriya looked on happily. "Alright, I'll help you with a simple song." The adolescent took Ion's hand and placed it on a string and plucked it. A note rung for a few seconds and faded away. Slowly, Nikolay played several notes with Ion's hand in a certain order. Then, he repeated it, with each note; he slowly said each syllable of "balalaika". He continued slightly faster, until Ion caught the hang of it. Nikolay let go and the young country slowly did it on his own. "Ba… la… lai~ ka. Ba… la… lai~ ka." He started to speed it up and got to a slightly less relaxed pace. "I can now play the ba-la-lai~ka!" he sang, strumming the last note. Viktoriya and Nikolay applauded him and Ion jumped up from his position, bowing. "Thank you! Thank you!" His deep bows made his hat fall off. Viktoriya picked it up, brushed the snow off it and plopped it back on his head. He clung to her leg and said "I love you, _babushka_!" he said. The old woman chuckled and said "Ion, I'm not your grandmother." He looked up with a determined and loving twinkle in his eye and said "But can I call you that?" She looked at him for a bit and said "Da, you can call me your _babushka_." He gasped and clung to her even tighter. Nikolay just chuckled, shook his head with a smile, and continued strumming his balalaika. Then, a chilling wind blew through and General Winter walked into sight. "Russia," he called. "Time to go. Say farewell and let's go." The country looked at Nikolay and Viktoriya. "Goodbye, _babushka_! I love you!" he yelled, running after General Winter.

He showed his new balalaika to Katerina. He played the "Ba-la-lai~ka" song he learned on it. Kat-Kat loved it.


End file.
